My dog destroyed our house!

My Dog Destroyed Our House! 🐾💥

Let me set the scene: it was a peaceful Sunday. The sun was shining, the house was clean (for once), and I decided to step out for just 45 minutes to grab groceries. I left my dog, Milo, at home—he’s usually well-behaved, maybe a little mischievous, but nothing wild.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

The moment I opened the front door, I knew something was off. The silence was too silent. No happy tail-thumping. No excited barking. Just... dread.

Then I saw it. Fluff everywhere. My living room looked like a blizzard had hit—except it wasn’t snow. It was the remains of my favorite couch pillow. Or what used to be a pillow.

Next stop: the kitchen. Milo had somehow opened the pantry door (how? I still don’t know) and had a full buffet. An empty peanut butter jar, shredded snack bags, and what looked like flour footprints led a trail to his final crime scene.

The bathroom.

He had pulled the toilet paper from the holder and managed to string it across the house like some kind of festive streamer. It wrapped around chairs, doorknobs, and even himself. He looked proud. Regal, almost. Like he had decorated the place just for me.

And there he was, sitting right in the middle of the disaster zone—tail wagging, tongue out, zero regrets.

I wanted to be mad. I tried to scold him. But the way he looked up at me with those big eyes and that goofy, flour-covered face... I just laughed. I couldn’t help it.